PS Don't Save Me
by Galaxius
Summary: If you're in the mood for a angsty, pretty depressive, story about how life gets better. Read this.


A.N.: This is a story written by me and my friend Ann on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Hope you enjoy this.

P.S. Don't Save Me

_Prologue_

A chick.

That's all I am to him: trapped in my woman-shaped teenage body without a voice. I _need_ to scream. Because if I don't, I'm going to slice his throat open and let his blood spill all over the white carpet.

His words drown together, lost somewhere between his mouth and my ear, until she nudges me.

"… However, Ms. Yamanaka, we are concerned about her low attendance, failing grades, and frankly, her overall well-being." He pauses to glance at the montage of papers spewed across his desk and scribble, presumably, nonsense. "Ino's sensei and many of her superiors have expressed great concern and brought it to my attention numerous times. Now I understand the circumstances, but Ms. Yamanaka–"

"Don't be silly; call me Kira," she interrupts as she lends him a pearly smile. She tucks her chemical blond hair behind her ear, which is visibly weighed down by her faux diamond earring. She scoots closer to him.

Words no longer retain form, sentences lose structure, and all sounds become one with the humming of the heater. My eyes are locked in the wooden table's pattern, following each zig and zag, until finally I end where I began.

He hands her an official Konohagakure Academy pen and points to the line on which she is to provide a signature, as he summarizes five pages of legal information. He claims he's found the perfect program for me. He says lots of other youth who have faced similar obstacles as me have been very responsive. He says he thinks that I will be too.

"I am positive that work with Hatake Kakashi, and a new group, will be highly effective."

I silently wish him luck with that.

No, I am not going.

No, not even if they switch Sakura Haruno into my old group.

I'm a lot of things but not a charity project. Nope. Never. No, thank you. She can't make me go. Can she? She makes me go, despite my pleas.

If I could escape an empty wine bottle to the head, I would have said right then and there how much I hate her, how stupid she's being right now.

She bends over backwards to give him a handshake with both of her hands, reminding him of her name because he seems to have already forgotten.

We don't even get home before Sakura is screaming at me, saying I lied about something—anything—to be in a group with Sasuke. She doesn't know how depressed I am, I realize. She's not the girl, even beneath all the layers of rivalry, that I had once claimed as my best friend amongst all my other friends.

I sneak out of the house that night determined to jump in a river and never step back out.

But I don't.

I return home, walking past my drunk, crying mother, up the creaky stairs, and into my cold bed without a taste of sleep.

Maybe I'll get better.

Maybe not.

..:: NEXT MORNING ::..

I wake with a jolt when I realize someone's touching me.His smile is greasy, his teeth slimy with God knows what, as his hands poke beneath my shirt again.

I groan, so sick of these creeps she brings back home with her from any seedy bar down the street.

He holds a dirty finger to my lips and another to his as if that somehow could silence me. By now, I've already thought of four different ways to kill him and he doesn't even know it. I snatch his finger and yank it backwards until I hear it snap. His smile drops.

"Try that again, I will have the ANBU here before your next heartbeat," I pull the knife I keep beneath my pillow out, and run it straight to his throat, "_If_ I grant you that."

"W-what are going to do with that?" he pretends as if his finger isn't broken. Either that or the pain hasn't set in yet.

I lie, "My boyfriend is Head of ANBU, do you want to spend the night with Interrogation Ops, or what?"

He looks like he's going to call my bluff for a second, then his mouth clamps shut and he curses. Slowly, he raises his hands over his head, walks to the door, and leaves.

I sigh, moving to the door so I can hear his footsteps go down the stairs and out the door. My hands won't stop shaking, and I move to the window to make sure he really left.

I curse, collapsing back on my bed, which is really just a mattress on the floor, and try to keep the tears out of my eyes. I hit my forehead with the side of my fist, "Damn…damn, damn, damn!"

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this is super short, but **please review. **


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